


Columns & Corbel

by greyorchids



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Sharing a Bed, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyorchids/pseuds/greyorchids
Summary: Rey is a junior architect and has ONE job when booking an out of town hotel for a meeting with an important client and her jerk boss, Kylo Ren.





	Columns & Corbel

“What do you mean, that’s the only room?” I drop my voice and try to indicate with my eyes that the concierge should follow suit.

“I mean...that is the only room you reserved.” She repeats, but thankfully lowers her voice. The inn’s foyer is full of guests; their happy chatter filling the room while they shake out their coats and mittens from the heavy snowfall outside. We all arrived on the same airport shuttle. Ren, of course, had private transportation. Being stuck in economy, I didn’t even catch a glimpse of Mr. Kylo _First Class_ Ren.

“Okay,” I remain calm, “can I add another room?” I quickly glance behind me but I don’t see him. Yet.

“I would, but we are completely booked,” she senses the incoming weight of her words and leans in, “you know, because of the storm.” I nod at her _very_ unnecessary explanation and swallow the bile rising in my throat. Cool. Totally cool. No problem whatsoever.

“There’s been a mistake. I made a mistake.” I press my fingertips into my temples and when I open them, I find her eyes have gone past me, locked onto something behind my left shoulder.

I feel it before I even turn around. A cool brush of air hits my chest and I know it’s over. He’s here.

“Are you the intern?” His voice cuts through the room like a dart and I purse my lips. _Nice to meet you too, Ren._

“Junior architect, actually.” I correct him and he blinks, unmoving. His eyes rake over me, and a thoroughly unimpressed expression settles over his features.

“Is my room ready?” He asks, turning his attention to the woman at the desk. What a complete dick.

“Well, yes, but-”

I cut the woman off with an insane hand movement, “There was an issue, but I’m solving it.” She shakes her head and I wonder who hurt Sheri so deeply that she would betray me. Come on, Sheri! What happened to tits before dicks?

Ren takes a deep breath, thoroughly annoyed with me already.

“What’s the issue?” He asks without preamble.

“She only booked one room.” Sheri, the traitor, provides him with an answer. I glance behind at the small grouping of people waiting to check in.

“There must have been a mistake -”

“Can you book another room?” He asks curtly and cuts me off in the process.

“No, we are fully booked, sir.”

“I did ask, you know -”

“What about partner...hotels in the area?” He interrupts me again and glances around the small inn with a frown.

“Between the storm and the town’s holiday celebration there’s nothing for miles.”

“How many miles? Specifically?” He presses. I hold my balled up fists against my sides and curse everyone and everything that led to this moment. Luke’s voice in my ear, _This is a great opportunity, Rey. Prove yourself, Rey. Who cares about the bitch work, it’s the opportunity of your career, Rey._

I know I booked two rooms. I _know_ it.

“I’m sorry, there isn’t anything available...even three towns over,” Sheri continues to type and type some more. Her hard lacquered nails makes each keystroke a stab to the eardrums, “and they are closing the main road - it’s too dangerous with the snow drifts.” With a snap of her gum she shrugs and looks up at Ren.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that. She did book you our honeymoon suite though. It is our nicest room.”

“Does it have two beds?” He asks, frustration breaking through. I swear Sheri nearly laughs at that. I’m beat red and boiling in my jacket.

“In our honeymoon suite? It does...not, sir.”

Ren cracks his neck and shuffles the sleeve of blueprints around his back. “Fine. Just give me the keys, we will figure this out in the morning. I go to argue, but he’s taking the keys and is heading towards the stairs with little room for discussion.

I glance at Sheri, who at least has the decency to give me an apologetic look.

“I’ll let you know if anything opens up.” I manage a nod before following Ren up the stairs.

 _Thanks for nothing, Sheri._

*

It almost feels like an out of body experience. My body buzzes with adrenaline and fear. I can’t believe I fucked up so quickly. And it has to be in front of _him_.

 _Asshole_ Kylo Ren.

It was such a Big Deal that he returned to Resistance Architecture & Design that Luke actually came in to the company office. Came in and _worked_. Which he hadn’t done in years. Luke is the reason I got this job - he put in a good word for me at the company, even if he swears he didn’t. It may be a joint partnership between him and Han Solo, but Luke had stepped down from a lot of the operational responsibilities.

“We will figure something out for tonight and I will take care of this in the morning.” His tone is terse and it pulls me to the present.

“I’m sorry, I swear, I booked two rooms.” I mumble as we stop in front of the door.

“Hopefully your architectural abilities are better than your travel planning.” I force myself not to roll my eyes. The guy is a twat. He thinks he’s hot shit because he’s designed a few important buildings and a couple homes for rich people. I don’t think he’s worth the hype.

I follow him into the room and smile - not even Kylo Ren could ruin a place this quaint and sunny. The inn isn’t new and it isn’t elaborate. But I feel instantly warm and comfortable.

“If this is the best they’ve got I would hate to see the other rooms.” His voice feels too big for space and I ignore him. Yes, the room is smallish, but it has a lot of charm. Two matching chairs cling to the sides of the original wood fireplace that faces the bed. I realize with a small tendril of dread that there is no couch. Of course there isn’t. That would be a mercy the universe obviously feels I do not deserve.

Sighing, I move into the room and head towards the far side of the bed. As I brush past Ren he flinches and the movement causes me to jump - I send my sleeve of blueprints flying into both him _and_ his sleeve and I watch in mild horror as both sets of prints fall to the floor. Tubes and loose paper roll around the floor as he swears, eyes sharp when they meet mine.

“For fucks sake - who hired you?” He snaps and I feel my annoyance reach a fever pitch.

“Your uncle.” I spit back, knowing it will make him hate me even more than he already does, and I couldn’t care less. He pauses, eyes narrowing on me.

“So _you’re_ the girl I’ve heard so much about.” His voice is even.

“Funny, no one’s had anything to say about _you_.” I fire back, and instantly regret it. It’s a lie, for one. And an obvious lie at that. He steps back slightly as if he needs to refocus.

And then the asshole laughs.

“Is that so?” He begins to unbutton his jacket and even the way he does _that_ is annoying.

“Nothing of interest, anyways.” I add and I physically bite my mouth to prevent anything further from escaping. Shut up, Rey. Shut up right _now_.

He sucks the air into his mouth before pausing again, watching me carefully.

“I can see why Luke recommended you.” He finally speaks, but it isn’t a compliment. It is said in resignation and I feel my shoulders lowering, the air falling out of my lungs. I may not understand why, but I know their relationships is strained to say the least.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” I say it quietly, hating that I have to say it at all.

“You did,” he says as he tosses his jacket on the bed, “but I haven’t given you a very good reason to think otherwise. Not yet.” He adds more to himself than to me. I just stare at him - his head is in jeopardy of hitting one of the wooden beams and he’s too dark a contrast for the cheery interior. He looks like he belongs in a concrete square with no furniture. Just a single windowsill to brood out of. He grabs one of the room keys and his laptop bag off of the dresser and heads for the door.

“The room suites you.” He says, eyes lingering on the space around me. This time I could tell he did mean it as a compliment, but I’m not sure how how to take it. 

As the door clicks shut I stay still for a full minute, just staring at the space he had occupied as if he would re-materialize and explain what just happened. When nothing happens I hang my jacket - and his - on the coat rack and begin organizing the spilled blueprints into the sleeves they belong to. It’s early, barely dinner time, but it’s pitch black outside and it makes me feel cold and exhausted. I pull out a worn copy of the book Rose and leant me and I head to the antique soaker tub with barely contained excitement.

Maybe there is hope for this trip after all.

*

He isn’t back when I get out of the bath.

Or when I blow through five chapters of my book by the fireplace.

Or when I get ready for bed out of pure boredom.

I guess Ren’s idea of handling the situation is to avoid it altogether. Which should be good news for me, except I have this itching type of feeling in the back of my head that makes me feel restless. I glance at my phone. It’s just after 10 p.m. and tomorrow we are supposed to meet with the client. I pull the curtain back and watch the snow flurries bury the town in a thick layer of white. I am not sure how we will get to them, but it has the potential for a long day so I reluctantly shuffle to bed, sighing at the day’s events.

Well, you snooze, you lose, Ren. I’m taking the bed. I turn on the side table light closest to the door in case he does come back, and slide into the tightly made bed. I groan at how comfortable it is, shifting around to get that sweet spot and I don’t even have to try that hard before everything goes dark.

A loud noise rips me out of sleep and I jolt awake, heart racing.

“Fuck.” I hear him at the door and see he has in fact returned, quite drunk and quite obnoxious.

The short distance between us makes me feel much more vulnerable now that I’m in sweats and laying in bed. He doesn’t look at me, though. Or rather, he doesn’t seem to be able to _focus_ on me.

“Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on top of the blankets.” His slurred speech is cut off by him rather inelegantly flopping onto the bed, his dead weight pulling the blankets tight around me.

“It smells like cake in here.” He sighs, and after a terrifying silent beat, his soft snores fill the room.

It feels a bit like I’ve been electrocuted. Every neuron is firing and screams for attention. Who the hell does he think he is? What is happening? He back is to me, black dress shirt shifting out of his black dress pants. Black socks. Black hair. The slight rise and fall from his breathing eventually subdues me. He isn’t a threat if he’s passed out, I guess.

I scoot over to the edge of the bed and face away from him only to feel him roll into the space I create. Sighing loudly, I elbow him a little bit and I’m met with an unhappy grumble as he moves away.

“Bed hog.” I mumble to myself, annoyance taking the place of fear.

There’s a sliver of light that is peeking through the curtains from the lamppost outside. I watch the snow fall and think about the lonely journey each snowflake makes until it meets a thousand others so far below the clouds.

My eyes start to burn and I fall asleep to the cadence of his breath.

*

Good lord, I’m _suffocating._ As my eyes blink awake I am hyper aware of two things - one, Ren is most certainly not on top of the blankets, and two, he is using me as his personal body pillow. I cough slightly from the weight and squirm a bit to get out from under him but he has me fully pinned, face down into the pillows. He’s trying to kill me.

Struggling to take a deep breath, I continue to shift out from under him, causing him to stir. His arms circle around me as he shifts to his side, pulling me up with him. It doesn’t really solve the problem though, because his vice grip is just as impossible to fight against. At least now I can breathe. I stop struggling for a minute and take a few deep breaths, preparing for my escape, when he shifts again and his warm hard body presses firmly against mine.

Alright, that’s probably enough.

“Ren,” I whisper, to no answer, “Ren!” I snap, and he jerks awake, taking a deep breath and stilling behind me.

“Oh, it’s _you._ You smell like cake.” His voice is low and unhurried and as his arms relax around me I push myself away from him and off of the bed.

“ _That_ is what you want to say to me right now?” I ask, not nearly heated enough given the circumstance, I think.

I think the sight of me in front of him must jerk him out of whatever half-awake place he was just in because his eyes snap to mine, and he bolts upright.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t...that wasn’t intentional.” His horrified and thankfully concerned expression softens me slightly. Slightly. It’s then that I notice there is nothing on the screen of the alarm clock. I walk over to the light switch and flick it a few times. Shit. The power is out.

I hear him groan slightly, reaching for his phone, “Well shit. We may have overslept.” I see his clock display - 9:48 - and feel my fists clench.

“I am getting into the shower.” I announce with thinly veiled rage. He barely looks up from his phone.

I make sure to use up all the hot water.

*

I take as long as possible getting ready and when I enter the room he’s staring me down, all levity removed from his features.

“Did you fall asleep in there?” He asks with a huff. He is standing with his toilets like a kid at camp and I laugh a bit at the sight of his disheveled hair and pillow creased skin.

Now I get to ignore him, “I’m heading down for breakfast.” I reply with a breezy attitude that I am sure is going to lead to my termination but he was wrapped around me like a koala bear all night so I’m not as worried as I should be.

Sheri smiles at me from behind the desk and I know my smile is barely more than a line. I saunter over and tap gently at the old wood desk.

“I don’t suppose any other rooms have become available?” I ask softly. She cocks her head to the side and sighs.

“Not yet,” she smiles, “the power is out in most of the town, but we have an old wood stove in the back, so we are still serving breakfast.” She motions behind her and I nod, accepting my fate.

The small dining area is actually adorable and I order copious amounts of tea as I stare out a fogged window and scroll through the news on my phone. I sense more than see him coming down the stairs and when he meets my eyes he makes a beeline for my table.

“Well that was a frigid way to wake up.” He announces, motioning to the lone staff member filling coffee cups.

“Sorry.”

“You’re not.” He returns, and his voice lingers without malice. He doesn’t seem hungover, which is surprising and a little impressive. I don’t get a chance to respond because my food arrives and my face splits into the first real smile since I arrived here.

His eyes widen at the size of my plate and turns to the waitress, “Just two hard boiled eggs and toast, please.”

I consider my giant plate of beans, eggs, waffles, bacon and I shrug. His loss.

“I figured out how we can get to the client,” he begins, and I dig in without a second thought, “we will snowshoe.” I pause mid-bite and try to swallow.

“Sorry, what?” I ask carefully.

“Snowshoe. I called around, there's a snowshoe rental place around the corner. We will showshoe up to them. I balk a bit at that.

“Is that really the best option?” My mind is spinning at the thought.

“Well, it is the only option. So yes.” I stare blankly at him for a bit before counting my lucky stars that I brought my good boots.

“Unless you think you can’t handle it.” He adds and I feel my eyes narrow.

“Snowshoeing sounds great.” I keep my voice even as I take a bite of my strawberry waffles.

“I looked through your blueprints.” He continues, and I drop my fork.

“What?!” The other inn guests turn to look at me and I lower my voice. “Why would you think you could do that?”

“I can do whatever I want,” he starts, “small perk of being the boss.” His lips quirk up before he drains his coffee with inhuman speed. I roll my eyes, uncaring if it offends.

“You have raw talent. But you need a teacher,” he assesses, “your work lacks control, lacks focus. You need -”

“I don’t need anything. Especially from you.” I bite back and get up to leave when he stands in tandem with me, arms raised in surrender.

“Wait.” He levels at me and I pause, rather expectantly, so he can say what he needs to say.

“Let me try that again.” He sighs and I let my arms fold in front of me. He’s rather intimidating this close, and I try not to notice the way everyone is pretending not to stare at us.

“You’re talented. I could help you excel.” His measured words take the heat out of my stance. _He’s the boss, idiot. Take the compliment and let it go._

“Your bedside manner could use some work.” I reply. _Close enough I guess._

“You wouldn’t be the first to let me know.” He smiles, sitting slowly, and I hesitantly follow suit.

The rest of breakfast is much less eventful. I watch him eat his hard boiled eggs, his jaw working slowly, and then I watch him down four cups of coffee all while he flips through the news on his phone. Every so often he pushes his hair out of his face, his long fingers disappearing into the dark strands and I catch a glimpse of his ears.

If he notices me scrutinizing him through narrowed eyes he doesn’t let on.

Thankfully.

*

Turns out Ren bit off more that he could chew with snowshoeing. I guess being a billion feet tall has its drawbacks after all.

“Fuck - hold up, will you?” He nearly wheezes from behind me, and it takes every ounce of my will power not to laugh at him.

“I think we are nearly there, but my phone is about to die.” I ignore his heavy puffs of air as he catches up to me and he looks at the GPS.

“Alright,” he cracks his neck and I watch his throat bob in the frosty forest air, “let’s keep going.” After a few minutes a giant wooden cabin appears suddenly, as if it were invisible until you were standing directly in front of it.

“Oh, I whisper into the quiet air, “this is magnificent.” He grumbles under his breath and we make our way to the front door, removing our snowshoes slowly, our brittle fingers making slow progress on the bindings when the front door pops open.

“Tell me you didn’t walk here.” A tired but warm voice appears in the doorway and I look up to see an unbelievably short woman with thick glasses and a winking smile.

“We did.” Ren’s voice carries despite the thick trees of the forest.

“Get in here before I have to explain why Ben Solo died on my front lawn.” Ren inhales with a stiff scowl and I feel the wheels of my brain playing catch up as we shake off the snow and pull off layer after layer of winter wear.

Ben Solo. Ben _Solo_?

I stare at him for minute before the words finally process and I blankly blurt, “You’re his son.” I don’t know if he hears me, but he pretends he doesn’t and the woman turns her attention to me.

“You must be Rey. Luke told me about you. I’m Maz. Long time family...friend.” She explains and I extend a hand to which she smiles brighter and takes it gingerly.

“Come in, come in.”

As Maz takes off down the hallway I admire the design with a look of awe. The cabin is...alive. Fresh. Vibrant. It doesn’t look anything like the work ups we’ve been doing at the company of late. It’s modern and rustic and entirely bespoke.

“Can I get you some tea?” Her voice calls out from the kitchen and we answer simultaneously.

“Yes please.”

“Something _much stronger_ , thank you.” I take a break from admiring the archways to send him a look. He appears nonplussed. He moves into the dinning area and begins to pull his blueprints out of the sleeve, spreading them open on the table and going over the lines with a furrowed brow.

“Here you are.” She places a warm cup in my hand and presses an empty glass into Ren’s.

“The scotch is by the fireplace.” She dismisses him and we sit at the table, her small frame taking up more space than I thought possible.

“Your home is amazing,” I breathe, taking a sip of the chai she prepared, “may I ask who designed it?” The woman goes to answer and pauses, glancing at Ren - as if asking for permission.

“I did.” His voice sounds heavy. Resigned, even. I don’t understand it at all. The cabin is a masterpiece. And it doesn’t look anything like the lifeless designs he’s been churning out since I got on board.

“You...designed this?” I ask, and I know it must sound insulting that I am in disbelief.

“He did. His first private dwelling design, unless I am mistaken.” She smiles and begins pulling the blueprints Ren brought towards her.

I want to ask him, _Why did you stop designing this way?_ But I think better of it. Somehow, without me asking aloud he hears the question, “I’ve changed a lot since then.” He says to no one in particular and I wonder if maybe I’m hearing his thoughts too.

The woman’s mouth pulls slightly into a frown.

“This is what you think of when I say _family home_?” She purses her lips and I feel him snap like a rubber band.

“These designs are sound.” He returns, and she frown etches deeper into her skin.

“This isn’t you. I don’t recognize you in these at all.” She sounds hurt as she moves from one design to the next. His face is expressionless. Void. I busy myself in my teacup and feel the tension tickle at my fingertips.

“Wait. What is this?” She asks, pulling one of the blueprints up towards her face. I try to get a look at the design but I can’t see a thing from where I’m sitting.

“This is what I wanted, Ben,” her voice is soft, “this design. It breathes off the paper - it’s you.” He walks over, looking at the design and his eyes narrow. Then they snap up to meet my own.

As she places the blueprint on the table I see it - the design isn’t his.

It’s mine.

I must have accidentally put it in his sleeve when I was picking our blueprints off the hotel floor.

“Actually -” he goes to correct but something won’t let me let him break it to her.

“That one is my favourite of his, too.” I blurt out before I can stop myself. She quirks her lips and begins inspecting the design.

“You know, his designs have become so cold. Militant. But this is exactly the spirit that gave me this cabin - I was worried the light had been snuffed out.” She murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

His stony resolve cracks just a little in his eyes, but I see it.

“This new home,” she taps the blueprint, “it’s for my grandchildren, you know.” She looks at me when she says it. I did know.

“I think they will love it.” I reply and she nods before looking at Ren.

“Do sit down, Ben. You’re white as a ghost.”

He obliges without argument and we sit next to each other, watching her trace the lines in approval. I wonder what she does for a living that she can afford the cost of custom builds. The design I made wouldn’t be cheap to construct either

We stay for an hour or so - the heat from the fire and the warmth from the tea makes it hard to bundle up and prepare for the cold but I force myself.

“I cannot thank you enough for travelling all this way. And on foot no less!” She looks up at Ren, who is finally smiling, if a little pained.

“Anything for my first client.” He responds and I think he means it.

The walk back is quiet. We are both too exhausted to bicker, so we fall into step with one another and watch the sun bleed into a brilliant pink-orange as we approach the town. He doesn’t mention my blueprint so I don’t either.

By the time we pass Sheri at the front desk my hands are so stiff I think they could shatter. She looks up at us and answers without being asked, “I’m still waiting on a room to open up.” She smiles and we both just nod. The lights are still out. I barely care. When we enter our room I notice a pile of candles have been placed on the dresser and a fresh pile of wood near the fireplace - guess they aren’t expecting the electricity come on anytime soon.

I can hear the other guests distantly. Laughter in the room over, someone somewhere is playing a guitar. It all sounds like it is in another dimension. Ren heads to the washroom and I peel off my outwear before falling into the bed. I try to get my socks off but I don’t think I manage before I fall into the darkness of sleep.

*

This time when I wake, the weight of his body isn’t as suffocating. But it _is_ there. And after a brief moment of calibrating, I am grateful for it. Everywhere he isn’t is absolutely freezing. I feel myself burrowing under him and he sighs, arms pulling me tighter against his body. I shouldn’t encourage this. But he feels so warm and solid.

I try not to focus on how desperate I’ve felt to be close to another person. That will only make things much worse. But he smells amazing. Even after braving the elements. I press into him - just for a second - his massive weight shifts again and his hips slot over mine and I gasp a little at the contact.

He presses into me _just_ enough and I silently squirm underneath him. He’s so hard it’s almost frightening and I immediately regret letting my thoughts get the best of me. He presses his face into my neck and groans.

Okay, I have to stop this. I move to get out from under him, and he presses me harder into the mattress, grinding himself against me and I see stars.

I stifle a moan and push myself out of bed through sheer willpower, and once my feet hit the floor I shiver. My phone is dead but a quick glance out the window confirms it is sometime in the dead of night.

He makes a sound of disapproval when he notices my absence, and I laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. This can’t be happening.

I slip into the bathroom, head spinning with a candle and matches in hand. I’m still in my clothes and the feeling of stiffness becomes unbearable. Shrugging out of my clothes I light a candle and shiver in the dark room. I catch my reflection in the dimmed light of the mirror and sigh. My mascara is smudged, my nose is red, and my hair looks beyond windswept. There’s no hot water, but I can’t bear to spend one more second in my own skin.

I wince as I turn on the faucet, it’s freezing and I dip in a toe with a grimace. I gingerly unwrap one of the inn’s soaps and have the world's fastest wash-up. It is as uncomfortable as you can imagine. By the time I dry off and get dressed I am shaking from the cold as I step out of the bathroom.

Ren’s awake. He has lit a few of the candles and is crouched in front of the fireplace, thankfully already solving one of my problems. He glances up and his face creases.

“Get over here. You’re shivering.” He moves over slightly and I sit next to him, watching the small fire begin to envelop the logs.

“I am going to find some food. You hungry?” He asks, grabbing a blanket and placing it around my shoulders. I sink under the weight of it all. The blanket, yes, but also the kindness. It makes me suspicious.

“I’m starving.” I answer around chattering teeth. He picks up his phone and sighs.

“I only have about 12 percent battery life left. It’s just gone one in the morning...there may not be much open. I’ll see what I can do.” He takes off without his jacket but I am too cold to care. The blanket he gave me must be his because his scent fills my lungs and I slouch against the chair legs as the heat seeps slowly into me. 

When he returns, I am slightly more human, bless the universe.

“Alright, I pilfered what I could.” He huffs as he steps into the small space I left for him in front of the fire. He places a loaf of bread, some butter and three bottles of wine in the space between us and I laugh outright.

“This is what you came up with? It’s 75 percent alcohol.” He shrugs.

“The whole town is shut down, it was either this or nothing.” I shake my head as he twists open the wine and drinks from the bottle. When he passes it to me I hesitate for only a second.

He starts ripping apart the loaf, dipping it into the butter dish and taking an inhumanely large bite, “It’s actually pretty good.” He says around his mouthful and a huff of laughter breaks through my chest.

“You aren’t like I thought you’d be.” I shake my head and hide in the shadows of the candlelight.

I can hear his smirk before he speaks, “Oh, I’m exactly like you thought I’d be. I’m just on my best behaviour right now.”

**Author's Note:**

> why am I so bad at prompts and finishing things. send help. or send me your prompts on [Tumblr](https://grey-orchids.tumblr.com/) because I am a glutton. If you're enjoying, let me know.


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